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lilylanie's review against another edition
5.0
Short stories are rarely my favourite because so often they end abruptly and leave me at best wanting more and at worst confused and annoyed. Munro's stories, however, are more like miniature novels. The characters are remarkably developed and realistic in a minimum of words.
alicia_sg's review against another edition
5.0
Todo lo que hayas sentido, anhelado y deseado en lo que al sentimiento amoroso y la atracción se refiere, Alice Munro ha escrito antes sobre ello, quizá por eso me gusta tanto esta autora.
Asumir una condición y aprender a vivir con ella es parte de lo que conforma la realidad humana. Sus relatos son historias donde lo doméstico convive con el deseo incumplido y reinan las contradicciones - que forman parte de la vida por mucho que reneguémoos de ellas- donde todos los finales son felices aunque no sea lo que se esperaría, solo porque la vida sigue y la vida, siempre sigue.
Asumir una condición y aprender a vivir con ella es parte de lo que conforma la realidad humana. Sus relatos son historias donde lo doméstico convive con el deseo incumplido y reinan las contradicciones - que forman parte de la vida por mucho que reneguémoos de ellas- donde todos los finales son felices aunque no sea lo que se esperaría, solo porque la vida sigue y la vida, siempre sigue.
mongert's review against another edition
4.0
It's hard to pick the right star-count for this book. No doubt about it, Alice Munro is a stellar writer, and I savored the writing. I thought some of the stories seemed too similar though. That said, some of the stories really stuck in my head (the title story, "Nettles," and "The Bear Came Over the Mountain"), and I wish I had a literature class to sit in on to discuss these stories, as well as the others in the collection. I will definitely keep reading Alice Munro!
trydz's review against another edition
4.0
I'm not a huge fan of short stories. I generally like novels because I can better connect with the characters and really get into the plot. However, I did like many of these short stories. For the most part the stories were about normal things that occur in everyday life, which is what I liked about them. Some of them made very little impression on me causing me to promptly forget them after I finished reading them. Others (especially the first story) stayed with me for quite awhile. Each story dealt with the nuances of relationships and how seemingly small things can make such a big impact on our lives. I'm glad I read this book...although I am looking forward to getting into a longer novel in the very near future.
kimberussell's review against another edition
3.0
Honestly, I picked this because of Munro's Nobel Prize win. Also, I could stand to read more serious works among my usual dishy reads.
The stories were mostly depressing, and everyone was either poor, ill, abused, or a combination of the three. But despite the dour themes (And the jumping around in time, which always confuses me. But as I've said in past reviews, that's my own mental malfunction.) I enjoyed the stories, choosing to reread a few so that I could catch the subtleties among the thick prose. I was surprised that this book took me as long to read as a regular novel.
The stories were mostly depressing, and everyone was either poor, ill, abused, or a combination of the three. But despite the dour themes (And the jumping around in time, which always confuses me. But as I've said in past reviews, that's my own mental malfunction.) I enjoyed the stories, choosing to reread a few so that I could catch the subtleties among the thick prose. I was surprised that this book took me as long to read as a regular novel.
thewilyfilipino's review against another edition
emotional
hopeful
sad
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
4.25
wicked_sassy's review against another edition
4.0
"The buffers made a scuffing noise and the sandpaper wheel made a rasp and the emery stone on a tool's edge sang high like a mechanical insect and the sewing machine punched the leather in an earnest industrial rhythm." -p.25
"After Mrs. Willets her heart had been dry, and she had considered it might always be so. And now such a warm commotion, such busy love." -p.53
"And now that it was suddenly emptied, it made her think of when she first walked into the house, straight from her parents' split-level with the swag curtains, and thought of all those shelves filled with books, wooden shutters on the windows, and those beautiful Middle Eastern rugs she always forgot the name of, on the varnished floor." -p.59
"The bushes and trees would turn black, once the lights were on. There would just be black clumps along the road and the black mass of trees crowding in behind them, instead of, as now, the individual still identifiable spruce and cedar and feathery tamarack and the jewelweed with its flowers like winking bits of fire. It seemed close enough to touch, and they were going slowly. She put her hand out." -p.81
"The slight movement of the bridge made her imagine that all the trees and the reed beds were set on saucers of earth and the road was a floating ribbon of earth and underneath it all was water. And the water seemed so still, but it count not really be still because if you tried to keep your eye on one reflected star, you saw how it winked and changed shape and slid from sight. Then it was back again--but maybe not the same one." -p.84
"After I had walked for a while, my stomach did not feel so heavy. I made a vow not to eat anything for the next twenty-four hours. I walked north and west, north and west, on the streets of the tidily rectangular small city. On a Sunday afternoon there was hardly any traffic, except on the main thoroughfares. Sometimes my route coincided with a bus route for a few blocks. A bus might go by with only two or three people in it. People I did not know and who did not know me. What a blessing." -p.119
"She got the box open and put her hand into the cooling ashes and tossed or dropped them--with other tiny recalcitrant bits of the body--among those roadside plants. Doing his was like wading and then throwing yourself into the lake for the first icy swim, in June. A sickening shock at first, then amazement that you were still moving, lifted up on a stream of steely devotion--calm above the surface of your life, surviving, though the pain of the cold continued to wash into your body." -p.155
"After Mrs. Willets her heart had been dry, and she had considered it might always be so. And now such a warm commotion, such busy love." -p.53
"And now that it was suddenly emptied, it made her think of when she first walked into the house, straight from her parents' split-level with the swag curtains, and thought of all those shelves filled with books, wooden shutters on the windows, and those beautiful Middle Eastern rugs she always forgot the name of, on the varnished floor." -p.59
"The bushes and trees would turn black, once the lights were on. There would just be black clumps along the road and the black mass of trees crowding in behind them, instead of, as now, the individual still identifiable spruce and cedar and feathery tamarack and the jewelweed with its flowers like winking bits of fire. It seemed close enough to touch, and they were going slowly. She put her hand out." -p.81
"The slight movement of the bridge made her imagine that all the trees and the reed beds were set on saucers of earth and the road was a floating ribbon of earth and underneath it all was water. And the water seemed so still, but it count not really be still because if you tried to keep your eye on one reflected star, you saw how it winked and changed shape and slid from sight. Then it was back again--but maybe not the same one." -p.84
"After I had walked for a while, my stomach did not feel so heavy. I made a vow not to eat anything for the next twenty-four hours. I walked north and west, north and west, on the streets of the tidily rectangular small city. On a Sunday afternoon there was hardly any traffic, except on the main thoroughfares. Sometimes my route coincided with a bus route for a few blocks. A bus might go by with only two or three people in it. People I did not know and who did not know me. What a blessing." -p.119
"She got the box open and put her hand into the cooling ashes and tossed or dropped them--with other tiny recalcitrant bits of the body--among those roadside plants. Doing his was like wading and then throwing yourself into the lake for the first icy swim, in June. A sickening shock at first, then amazement that you were still moving, lifted up on a stream of steely devotion--calm above the surface of your life, surviving, though the pain of the cold continued to wash into your body." -p.155
ana27734's review against another edition
emotional
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Diverse cast of characters? No
4.5
phantomsuitcase's review
emotional
reflective
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.75